


Crack In The Line

by chaoticrandomness



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticrandomness/pseuds/chaoticrandomness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a girl unparalyzes her hand and thinks about why she exists. Or, in which Kamijou is genderbent, and makes a wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crack In The Line

**Author's Note:**

> So... my NaNoWriMo project died 7,000 words in. :( 
> 
> However, this means that I have more time to start hammering away at my various fic ideas. :)

_Why do you exist, Kyouko? Why are you not dead?_

I suppose it’s common to ponder one’s existence when stuck in the hospital on life support, but there really is no reason for me to be alive, when my parents are dead and my violin is shattered and I can no longer move my left hand…

 

_It would’ve been better if the accident killed me. Or at least required the amputation of that hand or left my lower limbs paralyzed instead of my upper ones, for those don’t matter in my field._

_Once the only thing I’m good at is gone, what reason do I have to remain alive?_

“Do you want to make a wish, Miss Kamijou? It’s so strange for me to say that...” someone says, but I’m still barred from having visitors, according to the nurses that attend me, so what reason does anyone have to say that?

 

_You’re just imagining things, aren’t you? Imagining that you’re on your way to your concerts and that your parents are alive and…. that the world you live in is just a dream, and you’ll wake up and be able to play again._

_But you’ll never wake up from the dream._

“Who are you?” I ask, for they could be absolutely anyone. I don’t even know if they’re real, but they feel kind of familiar, like I’ve met them before and forgotten about them….

 

_Did you… save my life? Did you… kill someone I was close to? Did you do both?_

“I will be able to grant you your heart’s desire, if you just tell me what it is.” the voice says, and I still have no idea if it’s real, but if I can regain mobility in my left hand with the help of some fairy-like being, I have to give it a try.

 

“I want… to be able to play the violin again.” I say.

 

* * *

 

“...anyways, so they told me that you were finally allowed to have people see you, and I want to tell you something, Kyouko.” my best friend says as I open my eyes for the first time in who knows how long.

 

_Please tell me you didn’t do anything too crazy, Sayaka…. and did it work? Can I move my hand again?_

There’s a little egg-shaped glass gemstone sitting on a table near me. I pick it up with my right hand and transfer it over to my left, which closes around the stone and sets it back down on the bed….

 

_It… worked?! Somehow, that was real?! I can play again?!_

“Why are you smiling, Kyouko?” Sayaka asks, as she turns towards me.

 

“I can move my left hand again.” I answer, and she… almost looks disappointed that I told her that.

_Or, it could just be that you have no reason to be happy when your parents are dead. Why didn’t you just wish them back to life instead of telling the fairy something selfish?_

 

“I’m very happy for you; I honestly wasn’t expecting that to happen, for I’ve just heard that it was permanently paralyzed…” Sayaka rambles, her voice seemingly happy. I’m about to ask her about how much time I’ve been here when a nurse walks into the room and begins to talk about wills and apartments and funeral services.

 

* * *

 

_It’s insanely unhealthy to lock yourself in a room for two days and not eat or drink anything after getting out of the hospital! T_ _here’s a funeral tomorrow for your parents, and you’re here driving yourself bananas, Kyouko!_

Strangely enough, I haven’t felt any pain while I was practicing, nor have I gotten tired or hungry. I guess it has something to do with determination, for this is the longest amount of time I’ve gone without practicing, and I have to get myself back to the level I was before the accident.

 

_I made a wish to regain my ability to play. I won’t waste it in any way._

Someone dropped off a violin at my house while I was away. The note on the case’s handle said that Sayaka and Hitomi somehow found enough money to buy me one, and I can’t waste their gift either. 

 

_I never said to the fairy to bring me back to the level I was before the crash. For all I know, what I’m playing is completely out of tune and ridden with bowing and rhythmic errors, but I just think it’s fine because I-_

“You’re playing everything slightly flat.” someone says, and there’s a man standing in front of me. He has the same color hair and eyes and height as I do, and I’ve somehow conjured up a male version of myself during my practice session….

 

_Don’t you see that hallucinating yourself is probably a sign that you’re pushing yourself completely beyond your limits?! Go to bed and stop killing your fingers!_

“It’s because your hand is adjusting to a slightly larger instrument. You’ve been getting progressively less flat over the past few hours.” the man says, and it’s almost like he should be in my position and I should be the one who doesn’t exist, but when I blink, he’s gone.

 

_Why are you you, Kyouko? Why are you convinced that you're not supposed to exist?_ _You do know that everything you’re experiencing is a sign of profound sleep deprivation?!_

I sprint up a flight of stairs and collapse into my bed, waking up just in time for a funeral.

 

* * *

 

I don’t recall how much money was in the will that was legally left to me, but I’m pretty sure it’s not enough to keep myself afloat without being supplemented with my own income. So I’ve started teaching small children how to play the violin after my classes.

 

_I mean, I’m not awful at interacting with people and they seem to like me, so there’s that. I’ll just funnel the money from this into-_

There’s someone knocking on my door. I pull it open, and there’s a dark-haired girl standing in the doorway.

 

_She’s probably here to pick someone up, but just in case...._

“Are you interested in taking violin lessons?” I ask, as she walks into my house and sits down on the nearest chair. She’s a bit older than the kids who’ve shown up, so I’m not sure who told her, but I probably told my class that I was teaching people how to play the violin.

 

_Speaking of your class, aren’t you growing further apart from them? Why haven’t you been interacting with anyone lately, Kyouko?_

“...why do you exist, Kyouko Kamijou? There’s no reason for you to be here.” the girl says…  

 

_I don’t know?! Are you someone I’ve made up too, someone who echoes all of my thoughts about my existence?! Am I supposed to be someone else?!_

“Yes.” the girl answers, before she walks out the door. It’s almost like she can read my mind, which is more evidence for the theory that she isn’t real, and I need to get some sleep.

 

_You are aware that you haven’t slept much in the past week, yet you’re still functioning well?_

* * *

 

There’s a television flying around the park when I walk home from school the next day.

 

_Clearly, this is real. Just like the girl who asked you about the nature of your existence and that weird genderbent version of yourself._

“...Kyouko, do you mind if I join you?” Hitomi asks, as she takes my hand. She doesn’t seen to have noticed the flying TV, so it’s probably not real and I really need to interact with more people.

 

“If you don’t mind listening to a bunch of kids play violin, then you can come over.” I answer.

 

_By the way, Hitomi, have you noticed that bucket of chlorine that’s sitting in the window of that warehouse? Or the bodies-_

“I can leave, but Sayaka’s spending time with an upperclasswoman and her friend Madoka, and I don’t want to be alone…” she says, thankfully stopping me from thinking about bodies falling to the ground like raindrops, as people jump to their deaths….

 

_Kyouko, wouldn’t Hitomi be reacting if there were dead bodies near you? Wouldn’t someone have at least screamed, if they saw corpses falling from the sky? You need to get out of your head and actually interact with her, and not push her away…_

“I have a break before my lessons, and people aren’t going to mind you spending time in my house. Besides, it’s a bit large for just a single person…” I quip as I start sprinting home for some strange reason, as if hoping to outrun the images my brain’s generated… and I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?

_You did just drag Hitomi all the way to your house and acted like a madwoman…. but just keep her and Sayaka and the kids around, for they are the things preventing you from going completely bananas._

_At least no one’s died yet?_

* * *

 

The news says nothing about mass suicide or psychogenic illness, and I need to get those topics out of my head, especially when I’m meeting with someone who wants me to teach their daughter how to play.

 

_Have I met you before? You look familiar…._

“How did you find out about me?” I blurt out, and I have no idea why I said that.

 

“A friend of my daughter told her that you were the best violinist in the world, and she told me that you were amazing. Madoka’s in your class, right?” the woman asks.

 

_I know who she is, but…. I’m not nearly that good at playing and Sayaka-_

“How is she?” I blurt out, as dread shoots through my veins, for something wrong is happening and I don’t know what…

 

_She’s dead, isn’t she? Sayaka’s dead and I killed her…. even though that makes no sense at all._

“She’s never played the violin before, but I’m sure you can teach her how to play.” Mrs. Kaname answers, and that’s not the question I want answers to, I want to know that Sayaka’s alive and my mind’s just falling apart from stress.

 

“I’ll try to see if I can fit her in.” I say, before she leaves and I turn the news back on, which is talking about what to do if a tsunami were to hit Mitakihara and where we should evacuate to.

 

* * *

 

_When is the last time you’ve eaten something, Kyouko?_

There’s no food in my house, and I don’t recall going to the grocery store, so…. before the funeral. But I’m not dead, so that’s impossible.

 

_Is it? Really, is it so hard to believe that you don’t need to eat or sleep anymore? That the terms of the deal that gave you back your ability to play also took away your humanity?_

I’m sleep-deprived. That’s got to be the reason behind how strange the world’s become ever since the crash, but I have slept after the funeral… so it could be some sign of starvation or nutritional deprivation, or it really is magic that's keeping me alive.

 

_Didn’t something materialize in your hospital room after you made your wish?_

The gemstone that I got while in the hospital is sitting in my case. It’s silver, and filled with a strange, mist-like liquid….

 

_It’s nice that whoever gave this to me put a treble clef on it, and it’s…. a symbol of the ability I’ve regained._

_Why are you wasting so much of your time contemplating things that don’t even exist when you could’ve lost the one thing you’re good at, Kyouko?!_

Danse Macabre is not the sort of thing that one plays when trying to express a demented mix of gratitude and despair, yet it does sort of fit my situation….

 

* * *

 

The thunderstorms and floods start the next day. The news claims that it’s part of the tsunami that’s going to hit Mitakihara, and that we should all evacuate to the nearest disaster shelter.

 

The news does not mention the upside-down woman whose body is covered in gears flying through the town, spreading despair everywhere in her wake.

 

_This is the force that rules the world, apparently. All of the things I’ve seen are real, and I’ve gained the ability to witness this in exchange for my ability as a violinist._

I’ve finished taking a test, and I’m staring out of the window at the upside-down woman. Next to me, Sayaka’s looking at the exact same place….

_Are you like me, Sayaka? What did you wish for?!_

“...can you see it?” I whisper.

 

“What?” she asks.

 

“....the woman that’s made of gears.” I answer, before the bell goes off and I follow her out the door.

 

_What have you been doing while I was teaching children how to play the violin, Sayaka?_

She’s standing in front of a classroom door, and her friend Madoka’s joined her. The hallway is filled with people, so she probably hasn’t seen me, and there’s a cat perched on her shoulder.

 

_When did it get here? Have I seen it before?_

“Don’t do anything stupid.” someone says, before the speakers begin blaring a message about how evacuation is going to begin within the next hour. And I don’t have my violin with me, so I need to pick it up before it get destroyed.

 

“...by the way, thank you for getting another violin for me, Sayaka.” I remark, before I run home.

 

* * *

 

_ You should not be inside this building, Kyouko. _

I’ve heard stories of the cellist of Sarajevo and other people who play during times of trauma, but their situations aren’t exactly like mine, for the people who’re waiting out the storm are stuck in this ex-bomb shelter with me instead of outside with the storm.

 

_No, not like that. You should be fighting the witch with Sayaka and her friends, instead of safely waiting out the storm and risking all of their deaths._

I have no combat ability whatsoever, and regardless of what’s happened to my body, I’ve never been athletic and never will be. Besides, I don’t want to risk damaging my violin, which I’m unpacking right now and attempting to tune.

_No one can hear you._

_Even if no one can hear me, the music is still going to stop me from falling over into despair. It’s a touchstone, of sorts…._

I have no idea if I’m playing to drown out the voices in my head or just because it’s what I default to doing, but it’s my niche and I have to make the best of it.

 

_Just think of this as another performance, except with almost no audience and a chance of dying any minute… so more like an audition where you choose your music and happen to be playing a bunch of adagios and requiems._

For some reason, the world is growing whiter and whiter around me, and I have no idea why.

  
  



End file.
